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She can’t believe it, as she watches her bus leave without her. She thinks, “Am I in a bad dream? This can’t be really happening? Someone musta slipped me some shrooms when I wasn’t looking. This can’t be for real.”

The following day they leave. The bus stops for the girls in town to get some stamps for their postcards. Ryleigh jumps off too. She doesn’t plan to take long. But the next thing she knows, she hears her bus leaving, and she is not on it!

She cannot believe her eyes. It goes by as if in slow motion. “I sit in the front seat, for crying out loud! How can they not notice me missing?! Are they already drinking? Is this another rat-fuck?”, her head goes into a launch-sequence. (10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…).

She yells out, “Oh shit, there goes my team! Now I’m really going to get in trouble with that damn #KangarooCourt thing! I might as well finance that fund!”

“Wow, this touring thing! Is it always like this? No wonder everyone has so much fun traveling like a sports star”, Ryleigh marvels, looking out the coach panoramic window, as she sips her Double Brown #beer someone has handed her. This is what it feels like to be Bo Jackson.

She wishes she was born a boy, as she secretly knows she would have been a talented highly-paid U.S. sports star of some sort; that only men seem to attain.

With only one chromosome short of qualification, at least she would have fun at her paid job, while maybe making a few Million. That’s not a bad gig.

“I will drink no #wine before it’s tiiime. And I do believe it’s a fine tiiiiime to drink some wiiine”, Booh sings out in her Texan southern drawl. Her beautiful beaming smile broad.

It’s now the following year. After their illustrious premier trip the year before, every U.S. ladies team wants to go #DownUnder now. A ladies team in Orange County went to #NZ after them.

All kinds of things have happened this year, and Ryleigh’s life has done a 90 degree right-turn. It may be 10 years too late, but she’s grown up almost overnight…

…Ryleigh is on a high. Literally. From pain killers. During the game, she played her best once again. But she hates to wear a mouth-guard. She feels they restrict her capacity to breath, not to mention how gorilla-fugly they make one look…

Ahhh #vanity.

Earlier in today’s #rugby game against Belmont Shore, at one point when converging on the ball against the opponent, Ryleigh and her own teammate got there at the same time…

…They were like two trains coming around a blind corner and colliding into each other, because someone forgot to switch the rails. It is that sudden.

Blood was everywhere; nerve endings severed. Injury time was called, a dressing applied by Doc, and Ryleigh’s mouth bandaged with tape all the way around her head to hold the bandage on. No complaints.

And off she went, looking like a crazed mummy, back into the game, with a new fervor like none other.

She probably plays one of her best offensive games yet. #MVP of the Game.

Amie Annimal and Deanne are originally from the greater #LosAngeles/OrangeCounty area, and so the #rugger-hugger ladies are totally into going to watch one of their local #SanDiego men’s clubs play in a very small #Tustin tournament, with only six teams. Tustin is nestled among the inland, concrete freeways of Orange County.

This fave local men’s team has struck up quite a friendship with Streak, Amie and Deanne over the past couple years. They are really good friends.

Ryleigh is not sure, but she figures they possibly have had all sorts of #trysts amongst them with the more fun members of this men’s team. Maybe, maybe not.

Some are married. Some have girlfriends. It’s always been that way; the things she knows about most of these guys over the years would fry most people’s intelligence. It doesn’t matter. It is not her business to ask for the details. Nor for her to judge.

The #Surfers head to #Auckland to play the local Tamaki Wives social team and kick their butts 76 to Zero. No mercy. A complete nuclear winter annihilation. Total carnage.

***

These girls grew up with the sport of #rugby, but they have no idea of what is about to hit them.

They approach it tough though, like #Christians going to the lions. They know the game from watching their husbands, but still lack that “teamwork” thing. But ever since this Auckland-side heard the news of the Americans being in the country touring, they HAD to call them at the radio station to arrange a game.

They know they are only a wives’ social side themselves, but tell the U.S. girls, “We heard you on the radio and saw you on the Telly! We had to ask you to play us! It will be just an honor to have played the best international women’s side”.

So the Surfers cannot stand them up.

When it is 50-to-nothing at half-time, the American team start to joke quietly at how easy this game is, but don’t want to hurt the opposing team’s feelings since they were giving it such a college try. They want to encourage them! Not the opposite!

The sun is peeking through the clouds, but it’s still moist out. Streak gets
back, to a sigh of relief by Ryleigh. She watches Streak jump out of the
compact convertible, “Gosh, she musta froze her tushie off!”, shaking
her head with wonder.

Streak hops out of the Triumph, grabs her bag, gives Nathan a quick peck goodbye, steps back, blowing a kiss with her palm pressed to her lips. She then proceeds to continue kissing different spots traveling up her own arm, for a laugh.

They lose a day of their lives crossing the #InternationalDateline
that they’ll truly never, ever get back ever; so Streak intends to
make up for it. They’ve landed, and are at Baggage Claim. Streak grabs
Ryleigh and takes her aside.

“Hey, I’m going to spend the night and day with Nathan. This guy is so
sweet. We’ve had so much fun. I can’t let a good piece of ass like this get
away if I have the chance to have one more night with him. Wouldn’t you?”

Ryleigh does not know how to reply, having never been in this situation
before. She actually feels a bit of awe for Streak, even a bit impressed.
Ryleigh does not know what she would do. She cannot answer that
question yet.

Streak asks, “What’s the address and number of the hotel? He’ll bring
me there tomorrow.”

With her eyebrows arched, and a smile on her face, she gives Streak the pertinent details, and she adds, “Well, be sure to be here by 4pm, when we shove off, or we’ll have to leave without you and you’ll have to find us in the next city at your cost!”.

Streak answers, “Yeah, yeah, I know….if I’m not here on time, you’ll…”